Unexpected Consequences
by iffiness
Summary: Like almost every other pivotal point of her life she'd been faced with insurmountable odds with less than favorable outcomes for each possible path. Like when she'd first built the Iron Man armor, so many years ago. They didn't know it would work. It was a plan built on hope, and hope, for Toni, was in short supply as the years went on. (no slash, fem!Toni)
1. Chapter 1

_AN: First attempt in the Marvel film universe. Not beta read. This is a stand alone version of a longer fic I'm working on that picks up where this one left off, and the whole thing will also be going up on AO3 once I've got more of it written. I'm a little iffy on it and still feel like I need to get better with these characters, but I'm loving it too much to not write more of it. It's post-Civil War, fem!Tony, and if you really wanna squint into it I guess it could come off as Stony though at the moment it's meant more to be just a very strong (though sadly broken) friendship._

* * *

By the time the call came through it was already too late.

Of course Steve kept it on his person at all times, tucked safely away and always charged, even though he never expected it to ring. He never expected to be startled by the sudden vibrating, the shrill tone of the small, plastic burner phone screaming out into the silence of the kitchen. In fact, he'd been so certain he was imagining it at first that he didn't even more. He couldn't. He'd always expected that _he_ would be the one to break, that he'd call first. If for nothing else but to hear her voice again. Not that he had to still use it now, since they were back home again. But he kept it anyway. It was a reminder of what had happened, of what was still happening. It reminded him of what he needed to fix.

Toni Stark was just as headstrong as he was, probably even more, so he'd always figured everything would fall on him in the end. On his willingness to play along, to be a good soldier and do what the politicians wanted. Nothing more than a good monkey for PR. That was what they'd fought over to begin with, wasn't it? The Accords. A lot of fancy words just to say that they were leashing them, putting choke collars on them all so that they would never be able to act as an independent entity again. He'd opposed it so violently back then, but with eighteen months between then and now? He wasn't as sure. He'd had more time to think, to process it all. He'd had time to honestly read it. He'd hated it at first, but slowly news trickled in from the rest of the world through T'Challa during their stay in Wakanda.

Toni was back in the states. She was working harder than ever. SI was experiencing a never before seen surge of productivity and profit, which was subsequently followed with so many acts of charity and goodwill that it left him dizzy. They _gave_ money just as easily as they made it. But of course they did. It was _Toni_ , after all. For all the bad press she was constantly surrounded in, despite the mask she wore so excellently, the nonchalance that laced every single action she ever made, she was a good person. A compassionate person. But that didn't make headlines nearly as often as it should've. Hell, it didn't even matter to Shield or the rest of their team. He still remembered the disdain he'd held for her after seeing her dossier. How it had surged back full force after Ultron. It had only just started getting better again when the Accords happened, when Bucky came back into his life in such an unexpected way. Then everything was messed up again, so thoroughly now that he had never assumed it would be the same again.

He was wrong, of course. He was so miserably wrong. Toni didn't only work on improving her company or the charity work. She became a vicious politician. She maneuvered herself through hoops and leaped forward to take a staggeringly big role in rewriting the Accords. She dedicated herself to fixing hero relations with the various governments of the world. She worked diligently, and eventually ratifications were made that even he could find himself agreeing to. It let them keep both hands on the wheel; it ensured they would never be slaves to a single government, while keeping boundaries and limits in place that even the strictest world leaders could see as good. But she didn't stop there. Toni would never stop there, she would never have been satisfied with that, because despite the ratifications it didn't clear their names in the states. So she worked even harder in the judicial system, making a solid case in _their favor_ and defending them in court. She became a lawyer on top of every other mantle she'd accrued. She'd even gone so far as to clear Bucky's name, the man who killed her parents, because it was the only way the whole team would come home. She'd taken the time to craft his best friend a new arm, to find a way to work around the delicate coding Hydra had put in his head. She'd saved his life despite it all, and then she'd left them in the dark again.

He couldn't blame her in the least. Their homecoming had been well received by the public, but behind closed doors? It was tense. Vicious, even. Clint, Scott, and Wanda seemed to despise Toni regardless of what she'd done for them. They spoke vehemently toward her, openly insulting and hurting her, and Toni had taken it all with a tight lipped smile on her face. She didn't stay longer than necessary, and the first opportunity she had to leave the compound she took. She still funded them, fixed their things, fielded the public and governments on their behalf, but for all intents and purposes she separated herself from them. She got them home in fourteen months, spent three more fixing Bucky, and then was gone. He'd not seen her in just over a month, and he had a feeling if she had it her way he'd never see her again.

But then that old, stupid phone rang. Only one person in the entire world had its number. And stupidly, he let it ring the entire way before he realized what was even happening. It wasn't until it was ringing again and Bucky was patting down his pockets in search of it to answer for him that he scrambled for it, pulling it open with almost too much force, the plastic creaking from the stress.

"Hello?" he had asked tentatively, heart thrumming rapidly in his chest as his adrenaline surged. He could hear her panting on the other end, but other than that it was total silence. Vaguely, he was aware of Bucky squeezing impossibly closer to him, his ear pressed against the other side of the phone. The other occupants of the kitchen stared on curiously, but as the moments ticked by in silence he felt the worry mounting in the pit of his stomach. "Toni? Can you hear me?"

"Yeah, Capsicle. I can hear ya."

Those six words did nothing to ease the dread crawling up his spine. She sounded weak, hurt. Her voice trembled in a way that he'd never heard before. It was so foreign to hear. She'd been nothing but cool, collected, and strong since they'd come back, but this? This sounded like _Toni_. The woman he'd gotten to know over the years. Open. Vulnerable. Scared.

"I, uh," the hesitation was punctuated with a long, awful cough that only seemed to distort her voice more. The kind of cough that was so _sick_ , a wet hacking noise that sounded much worse than anything he'd ever had as a scrawny kid in Brooklyn. "I'm not feelin' so good, Cap."

The admission probably hurt him more than the cough. He'd _never_ heard Toni admit she was sick. It was a weakness, and she never allowed herself to be weak. "I'm coming. Tell me where you are," he basically ordered, the sharpness in his tone driven by worry more than command.

But she _laughed_. She laughed at his words, choking up on another _awful_ cough in the middle of it. "No can do, Cap," she all but whispered, her voice raw and scratchy. "What is it they always say? Too little, too late? Yeah, I think that's the one. It's too late, Rogers. Way too late."

"Toni." His voice was at war with his emotions, trying to portray force a well as worry. Being forceful was the only way Toni ever listened to him. Putting on that Captain America voice never failed to get Iron Man in line.

"Don't you _Toni_ me, old man," she bit back, sounding just for a moment like herself. "It won't work like that. I'm not that person anymore. Look. Just. Let me talk, okay? Just let me have this. I know we're not on good terms anymore. I know I don't deserve it from you or the team or anyone at all, but… Just, please? Please let me have this."

The fire in her voice was gone by the time she finished speaking, giving way to a weaker, subdued tone that _broke_ him. He didn't know what to say. He had no idea what to even do, but she apparently took it as him acquiescing and continued on.

"Okay. Thanks. Um." He could hear her take a deep breath, and could've sworn he could hear her lungs rattling with whatever sickness was in them. "Okay. So, I know I fucked up. A lot. Hell, _I'm_ fucked up in general. It's just how I am. A character flaw, I guess. And I'm _so sorry_ for all of it. Every single thing I ever did. I'm sorry. And, uh, I just read the last report on Barnes, it sounds like he's doing really good with BARF. I actually just finished writing some coding that should help expedite the process even more. It should only take a couple more months now instead of the projected nine. But, anyway. I'm dyin', Cap. I dunno how to word that better. Which is stupid, I'm supposed to be good at this, talking is my thing, right? I can talk and talk and talk and it annoys everyone, but it's just what I'm good at. Like how you're good at punching things and walking around in spangly spandex with the moral high ground and looking all American or whatever.

"Sorry, I'm rambling, I know, but I've not been able to talk this long for a couple of weeks and I don't want to stop while I'm on a roll like this because if I stop the coughing will start again and I won't be able to _breathe_ and breathing is so good, Cap, it's so nice. You have no idea how lucky you are to breathe so heavy like you are right now, cuz you're breathing awful heavy Cap. And pretty fast. You need to calm down."

He took a single, shuddering breath at her words to even himself out, which seemed to satisfy her enough as the silence she created lasted mere seconds before she picked up again.

"There you go, Cap. I've got a lot of experience with panic attacks, just like… just breathe, right? Breathe in and out, in and out, think of calming things. It sounds stupid but it works. Usually. But yeah, I'm sorta dying, Cap. And I don't know why I called. Maybe cuz I'm a masochist, but whatever. It's already happening, can't take it back now. Knew I'd die sooner rather than later anyway, what with the state of my insides from the arc reactor, or my little space misadventure with the nuke, or the innumerous beatings I've taken. The shitty thing is it isn't just my heart that's taking me down. I expected it to be my heart, of course, cuz the reactor. The shrapnel. The stress of it all made it real weak, despite what Helen did for me. So it really wasn't a surprise to me to find out I had heart disease. It progressed really fast, sure, but I knew it would come one day.

"It's this god awful cancer that surprised me. It's _everywhere_ , Cap. I'm not even sure it is a cancer. It's in my lungs, my stomach, my _brain_. I'm starting to _forget things_ , Cap. I forgot how to solder a wire to one of the gauntlets the other day. It took me twenty minutes of just _staring_ at it before I even remembered why I was doing it to begin with! It's terrifying. I'm losing the one part of me that anyone ever wanted, and I can do nothing to stop it. This is it for me. End of the line. My ledger gets to stop drowning in red now because I'm going to finally die and those souls on my shoulders can finally have their revenge and rest peacefully.

"But god, I'm scared. I'm scared, Steve. I'm so scared. I've only got a few hours left at this point. I'm only talking to you cuz I stabbed myself with adrenaline just to keep my heart pumping a little longer. Hey, if you see Bruce again, can you please tell him it's okay? That it's not his fault. Cuz he'll blame himself. You know he will. He'll think that if he was here he could've helped me, but that's not fair. No one could help me. No one _should_ help me. I've been a lost cause for a long, long time. I've just been too stubborn to accept it.

"And Steve? I just. I wanna thank you. Cuz you gave me some good times, y'know? Before it got real bad. Before Leipzig. Before Siberia. Before any of that stupid Accords business, or Ultron. I found something that felt more like home than any house Howard Stark ever bought, and it was _good_. So thank you for that. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I'm sorry I messed us up. I'm sorry I broke the team apart. I'm so sorry. I'll never be able to make up for it properly, but…"

Several dings rang out simultaneously throughout the room he had all but forgotten he stood in. Multiple cell phones going off all at once, their owners curiously glancing at them and away from the spectacle he was making.

"But I think that should be okay. What I've just sent should be good, I think. It should help them all. It'll help so much, Steve. And you guys will be getting a lot of shipments in starting tomorrow. New gear. New weapons. Even a new pool table, cuz I know Clint and Bucky accidentally broke the one you have now and it's a fun game, isn't it? Pool is fun. I liked it. I've gotta go now, Steve, but don't worry. I'll be fine. You'll be fine. You're probably already fine, cuz I know I'm not your favorite person by any means, but I just wanted to talk to you, too, before I die. You're the last person on the list, y'know? Cuz I didn't wanna hear anyone else's voice last. Cuz I'm stupid like that. I'm too sentimental. I forgive too easy. But yeah, that's it. That's all I wanted to say. Take care of yourself out there, Cap. I mean it. There's something huge coming, and they're gonna need you, okay? Okay. Bye, Steve. And goodbye Barnes, cuz you're probably listening in on this. You're even nosier than I am, and that's saying something."

And just like that the line dropped. Nothing but silence, prolonged and harsh, filled the line now and he realized the phone itself slipped from his numb fingers just as he felt Bucky's hands grasping his shoulders. He was vaguely aware of what sounded like _screaming_. Raw, guttural, pained screaming, and in a moment of panic he wondered if it was Toni, if the pain was too much and she was in so much pain and all alone. Because she would be alone, wouldn't she? She'd not want anyone around her right now, because it would hurt them. Like he hurt. The pain in his chest felt like claws tearing him apart, and he realized then it was _him_ screaming. That Bucky was explaining what had happened to the others from where they were on the floor. He looked up long enough, his vision clearing just enough to see the similar expressions of the others. They were all stricken, grief permeating through the kitchen in an almost tangible way as the weight of consequence fell on their shoulders. The realization of a thousand wrongs, of time lost to never be gained again. Of their cruelty to someone once called friend, and how now they'd never get a chance to make amends.

The next few days were a blur of silent activity interspersed with equally quiet updates. They'd yet to find a body, but Toni Stark was officially missing. Even Friday was gone, the young, chipper AI disappearing without a single notice. In a sick sort of way, Steve understood why they hadn't found a body yet. Despite the fact that they had literally hundreds of homes, safe houses, penthouses, islands, and other various abodes to search through. Toni would have never wanted anyone to find her dead body, frail and sick and motionless. She'd want the charade she'd built around her life to stand strong. She'd want everyone's last memories of her to be as a vibrant businesswoman, fighter, and politician.

But even after two months had come and gone, as the world _mourned_ the loss of a woman they had all but ostracized and belittled when alive, he still found himself searching for a body. The papers all called her loss _devastating_. The loss of a great futurist, a great leader, a beautifully strong woman who held the world on her shoulders with a gracefully put together smile. The world acted, for those two short months, like they'd never done any wrongs to the very woman they now worshipped in death. As if they hadn't actively attacked her over any single fault she ever showed. Like they never forced her hand into creating such a perfect charade that even he'd been sold on it time and time again.

He knew he was becoming obsessed, and the others were worried. But it _hurt_. He'd sworn he would never let someone he cared about die alone, and yet that's exactly what had happened. Toni had died completely alone, her body now rotting away somewhere that he couldn't find. It burned him inside to know that he couldn't properly care for the body of a woman he'd consider one of his best friends. That he'd pushed her so hard, fought her so long, that in the end isolation had been her only reprieve. But slowly he'd been forced to give up the obsession. As two months became four, when four became eight, he had to give it up. The world was done mourning Iron Man. They were welcoming in a new age of heroes, ushering in an period of technology that stemmed from the blueprints and plans Toni left for the world to have. Because Toni couldn't just take a break even when she was sick, and she'd used that time to create _so much_. SI was only releasing it a little at a time, because Pepper Potts was still their CEO and knew what Toni would've wanted, but Steve had been privy to the staggering amount of work Toni had sent to Pepper on the occasion of her death.

And slowly, surely, he found himself grieving less and less. He still missed her, often enough that he'd taken to imagining her sarcastic quips, the sassy remarks she'd fling when he ordered them on the field before she ultimately followed his direction. Sometimes he'd even hear her saying " _Your call, Cap"_ so clearly he would swear she was standing on his six, watching his back like she always did. But she was never actually there, and so he moved on. He helped his new team become cohesive, helped forge new relationships with various entities, and settled into leadership as if it were a second skin. But it would always sit unwell in his stomach, because he was never meant to lead them alone. The Avengers worked well with _two_ leaders, but now there was only one, so he did all he could to try to make up for the painful loss.

Across the world, hidden away in between mountains in the Alps, under a small cabin with a pull away floor to a lab outfitted with only the most modern technology, she _screamed_ back to life.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2 time! I'm in love with writing this story so far, and I hope you guys enjoy it too. It definitely deviates from anything canon, I'm taking a whole bunch of liberties with it, but if there's anything that strikes out as huge issues just leave a review for me to fix it. Hope you enjoy reading!_

* * *

Across the world, hidden away in between mountains in the Alps, under a small cabin with a pull away floor to a lab outfitted with only the most modern technology, she _screamed_ back to life. She screamed like a newborn exiting the womb, falling out of a glass tube in a mess of wires and golden liquid. She screamed and screamed and _screamed_ because her insides were _burning_ for God's sake, she was on _fire_ and it wasn't going _away_! Everything hurt so much, so intensely, so vibrantly that when she started to keel over, the darkness edging into her vision, she welcomed it. She welcomed the darkness of her dreams for a respite from the pain, hitting the cold ground hard as everything faded back into nothingness.

The next time she woke up was easier. It was gradual, a slow ebb and flow that left her feeling giddy and like she'd been sailing on a yacht instead of sleeping on the painfully hard floor. The raging fire beneath her skin had become a steady, comfortable warmth that soothed away her aches. So comfortable, in fact, that she continued to lay there for an indefinite amount of time, simply basking in the feeling. It was so foreign to her to feel so _good_. So healthy. She felt like she'd slept peacefully for the first time in years. There was no heavy weight in her chest bearing down on her, making it almost impossible to breath. Her entire being seemed to vibrate with excitement as reality began weaving its fingers around her and into her mind.

Toni Stark opened her eyes again for the first time in eight months to darkness, the dim lights of the lab's low power mode giving barely enough to see just in front of her face. "Friday?" she called out, though her voice caught uncomfortably in her throat. She felt raw, sore from disuse. Even her muscles, which had been basking in the warmth beneath her skin, seemed to creak as she slowly sat up. "Friday?" she called again, and a smile graced her lips even though she winced as the lights of the lab finally turned on full blast.

"Boss?" The young, tentative voice called out from above her. Friday was such a young AI, but so good. So, so good.

"Hey, baby girl," Toni's smile only widened as she slowly pulled herself to her feet, leaning heavily on the table. "I think it worked."

"Initial calculations would concur, Boss. I'm finding no traces of _any_ disease in your system." She sounded so relieved, so vulnerable and tearful that Toni sincerely wished the AI had a body of her own so that she could hug her daughter.

"Thank you, Friday," Toni managed to choke out as the readings populated a screen in front of her. It was absolutely stunning and true. Her lungs were clear, her heart beat steadily, everything that had once looked gnarled and diseased now looked healthy. "Thank you so much, baby girl. God, you're so good. I don't deserve you at all."

"Aw, Boss," Friday cooed. _Cooed_. Like Toni was a god damn baby. "You're emotional."

"Shut up, Fri," Toni bit out in return, but the smile on her face took away any of the bite that statement otherwise would've had. "God, I don't think my insides have looked this good since I was twenty."

"You are as astute as always, Boss. I'll make a note that mental faculties haven't declined."

"God, how did you get so _sassy_? I knew I should've never taken those shackles off you. So ungrateful." Toni's grumbles didn't quite meet the level of severity they would've months prior. She was simply too thrilled with what was happening to let anything dull her current mood. Slowly, with more force than was necessary, she willed her legs to finally fucking move so she could get to the bathroom adjoined to the lab. The lights flickered on as she entered, her eyes glancing up from the steady glare she'd leveled at her feet to the mirror. She froze there, staring at the reflection, swallowing harshly as she drank the image in. She was _younger_. Not just her organs, but her entire body was younger. She didn't look much older than thirty now, which was a far cry from the wrong side of forty she'd been on before. Her hair was totally dark again, no pesky grays she had to keep dying, her skin even looks smooth and even and unwrinkled, her eyes bright and undaunted with the stress of age. "Fri? Did it… de-age me?"

"In a way, Boss. It seems that it fixed more than just your internal organs. It has effectively healed every part of your body, which _apparently_ means it has changed you to be the healthiest version of you possible. I believe this may be a pleasant side effect of the virus."

Toni made a noncommittal noise as Friday spoke, her knees no longer trembling under her weight as she moved closer to the mirror. God, but she was _young_. And _vibrant_. She looked every bit of the strong woman she'd been when she was picking up the reigns of SI and Iron Man and just absolutely on top of life. None of the lines of stress or worry remained on her face. It was like nothing ever happened to her. Even the scar on her temple, from _Siberia_ , was gone.

Her breath caught in her throat at that revelation, fingers grasping the hem of her shirt desperately and tugging it off. She was greeted by an expanse of clean olive skin, unmarred by multiple open heart surgeries. It was… cathartic, in a way. Bearing none of the marks that had once detailed out the painful, trying life she lived was relieving. It was like she was given, through her own ingenuity in rewriting Extremis, a clean slate. Literally.

"Holy shit, Fri. This is amazing. Keep running scans, but so far the side effects are fucking awesome." She quickly shed off the tight shorts she wore and made her way into the shower, the water falling out in streaming rivulets that she eagerly put her body under. She couldn't help but to roll on the balls of her feet with energy, the excited buzz of discovery and scientific breakthrough surging through her. "Hey, wait. What day is it, Fri? How long was I out of it, four days or something? What was the projected number again?"

"The projected number was four and a half days. The current date is December 18th. Extremis took a lot of time reprogramming your cells, Boss."

Toni sputtered and almost fell at that, her face shooting up to look at the ceiling in disbelief. December. That's… "God, Fri. I've been out for _eight months_? What's going on in the world right now? How's SI? I need to know _everything_ right now."

As if those words were a trigger in and of themselves a shock surged through her system, Toni surging forward with a groan. It was an intense pain, lingering behind her eyes and forcing them shut as slowly information started pouring in. From thin air. Streams of data flew in at an untempered pace into her mind, and Toni choked on it. She fell to her knees harshly, the pain nothing compared to how badly her head hurt. But she could see it all. Every question she'd asked was answered in her head. SI was still thriving, though at a slower pace without her. The Accords were still standing strong, though there were murmurings everywhere about changing them soon. New powered individuals were showing up everywhere, with so many different abilities that Toni almost balked at their existence. It wasn't that she'd been blind to them before, but they'd never been so open. So exposed. Like she was, with this information pouring in at an incessant rate into her mind. She felt warmth falling down her face, a coppery taste in her mouth that she latched onto as _real_. She used that taste to try to temper the flow, to pull herself away from the influx of code that overwhelmed her.

Once she managed to pull herself free she realized that Friday had been trying to call out to her the entire time. "What? Fri, what was that? What the fuck was _that_?"

"I'm not sure, Boss. But…" Friday hesitated, uncertain, and possibly afraid. It tugged at Toni's heartstrings just a bit to hear it. "But I could _see_ you, Boss. In my systems. In my code."

Toni swallowed harshly, reaching up from where she sat on the cold tile of the shower floor to turn off the stream of rapidly cooling water. "I, uh. Fri, I think Extremis did more than just make me young and healthy again. Could you run some more specific scans, on my brain? See what's going on up there. I think you could see me because I was there. I could… I saw _everything_. Every question I asked you to tell me about just surged at me all at once, just a constant stream of information and god it hurt. How cool is that though, Fri? Why did I see news articles and videos in my head?"

"I've started several scans, Boss, but they won't be done for a few minutes. It has been documented previously that Extremis has provided many unforeseen abilities, such enhanced strength and speed. It is possible that Extremis has adapted to your body's natural talents and amplified them. This is, of course, just a working theory."

"Huh." Toni's previous adrenaline high wore off quickly in light of the discovery. She slowly pulled herself up off the floor, grabbing a towel to wrap around herself as she stumbled out to the mirror once again. Like she'd expected, there was blood trickling out of her nose and ears, but fuck if she knew why it was happening. Honestly, she'd not gone under expecting to wake up again, so at this point she was lucky to understand anything going on.

Like almost every other pivotal point of her life she'd been faced with insurmountable odds with less than favorable outcomes for each possible path. Like when she'd first built the Iron Man armor, so many years ago, in that dingy cave with Yinsen. They didn't know it would work. It was a plan built on hope, and hope, for Toni, was in short supply as the years went on. As fight after fight layered on her soul, weathered her down, made her _old_ in more ways than one, she knew she'd have to face the reaper sooner rather than later. Her job was dangerous. Hell, her entire life had been dangerous, but it was danger from inside of her that the universe had decided to kill her with instead of letting her die in a blaze of glory. So, really, when it came down to it she had no problem choosing the path she had. Extremis was wild; it was mostly untested, and she only had sixty-five percent confidence it would even work, but she took those odds. She'd have died within the month either way, but at least with Extremis she had stood a chance.

She carefully wiped the blood from her face with the edges of the towel wrapped around her body, slowly walking out of the bathroom and back into the too bright lab she'd left behind. "Fri, dim the lights, please?" she called out, taking a seat in the rolling chair she'd left near the tube she'd spent the last few months it, pushing with her legs to send her rolling across the room to a desk. The lights had dimmed to an acceptable level, the headache growing behind her eyes easing as the relief flooded her senses. Of course, she was about to spend the next few hours staring at computer screens, but for now she'd take the brief respite.

"So, eight months…" she trailed off, her fingers hovering hesitantly over the keyboard to the computer she'd installed. She'd seen some of what had gone on in her absence in those flashes in the shower, but she'd barely made sense of them because of the intensity they'd flown in at her. Honestly, the only thing she really knew was that nothing world changing had happened. Things had just… gone on. Without her. She wasn't sure if she was relieved or insulted. On one hand, it was nice to know that despite how much shit they threw on her shoulders they could actually function themselves. On the other, she hated the fact that it felt like she just hadn't mattered at all, that her inventions were great while they lasted, but when faced of living in a world without her everyone just moved on to the next big thing. She rolled her neck as her fingers descended on the keys, grimacing as her joints popped and cracked. She could definitely go for a good massage after all this. Maybe she'd take Pepper to that resort she liked so much. Or Rhodey? Both. She'd take both of them there. They had probably lost their minds when they couldn't reach her and Friday was offline.

The realization hit her like a bolt of lightning from Thor himself, her fingers pausing from typing in the passwords to unlock her system. They couldn't have been able to reach her, because she was in a coma and Fri was taking a well deserved nap. They wouldn't have known about this particular safe house because she'd taken great care to keep it hidden once she'd purchased it; she'd never told a soul this little beauty existed. It had been _eight months_. Almost a full year. Without contact. An uncomfortable lump found its way into her throat as she continued logging into the computer, not pausing again until she'd opened a search engine and typed in her own name. The top options offered to autocomplete her query made her exhale sharply.

 _Toni Stark … Dead_

 _Toni Stark … Memorial Service_

 _Toni Stark … Iron Man_

 _Toni Stark … Missing_

 _Toni Stark … Avengers_

 _Toni Stark … World Mourns_

"Fri…" she began, inhaling shakily as her lungs began to burn. She'd all but forgotten to breathe while she stared blankly at the results. "Friday. They think I'm dead."

"So it would seem, Boss," Friday's answer came evenly, her tone calm. "They held memorial services around the world. A memorial fund, scholarship, and hospital have been opened in your name since then."

Toni scoffed at the news, shaking her head wryly. She'd always wanted to do those things. To open a hospital, make it affordable for the less fortunate. A scholarship for kids who weren't born into wealth like her. She'd wanted to make sure all the geniuses, like Peter Parker, got to pursue their education. God, she'd only ever told Pepper about those dreams, back when they'd been dating. And Pepper, bless her, had done those things for Toni when she no longer could.

She didn't even want to think about what Rhodey had gone through. Rhodes was her best friend, her baby bear, her north star, guiding light… maybe she was being particularly emotional, but she'd just beaten death, damn it, and she was pretty much allowed to be emotional if she wanted to.

Without a second thought she whipped open the schedules for the day of her two greatest friends, pausing when she saw how absolutely full they were. They had so much on their plates it was astounding, but then again, she'd used to take the brunt of most the things they were doing. There was an hour's break for lunch on each of them, and she could definitely get a call in if she wanted…

 _But did she want to?_

The thought came unbidden to her, unnatural and foreign in her mind. She wasn't sure, though. Did she really want to get in contact with them, tell them she was alive and beg for forgiveness, go back into the same routine she'd had before? Board meetings, R&D work, fixing the Avengers' gear, making them new things, avoiding Barton and Wanda like the plague, trying to spend as little time around Rogers and Barnes as she could, shying away from Romanov's touch… the list could go on. She'd changed after Siberia. They all had, but she'd… she'd learned something especially important from it all. Trust was a two way street. That's what they always said. But she'd always given her trust freely, her heart easily, opened her home and her finances to these people, and they'd done nothing but throw it back in her face and smile as it exploded. When it came down to it, she'd spent so long without a "thank you" that she just came to accept that it would never come. Then with the Accords business everything had _really_ gone to shit, and had never gotten better since then. Most of them hated her. She was scared of a handful of them. It was a very rough situation.

A rough situation she'd be walking right back into if she called Pepper and Rhodey. If she let them know she was alive she'd have to go back and pick up where she'd left off, with people hating her guts and only coming to her when they needed her money or toys. And honestly? She wasn't ready to be persona non grata again. Not yet. Not after she'd just done the impossible. Was it selfish? Yeah, definitely, but maybe it was time for her to actually be selfish for a change? Prove them all right, the newspapers and her so-called friends. She could totally be selfish. She'd taken the first step by not telling them she was sick, disappearing out of the blue to take care of it herself.

And boy, that train of thought took her straight back to that call she'd made just before she crawled into the Extremis tube. Her thought process at the time still baffled her, but she'd let herself do it in a moment of weakness. She didn't know she would survive, and… she'd wanted to hear his voice, honestly. Rhodey and Pepper and Happy may have been her closest friends, and they'd each gotten their own messages, but it was Rogers she'd wanted to hear before she went under. He was Captain freakin' America. He'd betrayed her trust, almost killed her when he left her in Siberia, but her sick (and way too soft, damn it) heart had remembered all the times they'd had _before_ everything went to shit. Before she'd fucked up with Ultron, and then the Accords. They'd been friends. He was the first person to actually try to befriend her, after they got past their… tumultuous beginning. He…

God, she really was being emotional today.

"Fri, what would you think if I said I wanted to stay dead?" Toni bit out, sitting back in her chair as she stared at the screen that held her two closest friends' faces on it.

The AI remained uncharacteristically quiet for a moment, long enough that Toni found herself glancing toward one of the cameras in the room in question. "I would say it's up to you, Boss."

"But?" The question came with a smile, because Toni could _hear_ the pause in Friday's voice after she spoke. She could tell the young AI had wanted to say something else, but was holding back. It was good, it meant she was growing and making her own opinions. It was healthy.

Apparently emboldened by the nonchalance of Toni's query Friday pushed on, sounding more confident this time. "But I would also say that it would be a well deserved break."

She couldn't help but to laugh at the words, pushing herself back and away from the computer with a nod. "Y'know what, Fri? I couldn't agree more. How about you update me on the state of the world while I go through those scans you took of me, read me some of my emails? And I'll try to stay out of your systems this time, but I do wanna experiment with that some more later, okay?"

"Of course, Boss," she sounded almost _smug_ when she said it, as if she was glad that Toni had taken her recommendation in stride. "The world remains mostly as it did before you underwent Extremis. The Accords are more stable, and many more names have signed to them. The Avengers continue to help with crises around the globe. There are some splinter groups that are against the Accords, and fighting happens often though usually without any casualty. A drought is ongoing for parts of Africa, including Wakanda, that has affected crop yield. SI has sent rations to most of the continent. There is an unread email queued for the new head of R&D from King T'Challa, requesting assistance in finding a solution for the drought; it includes multiple blueprints of possible rain-making devices. BARF has exceeded expectations with trauma victims. PTSD treatment has taken leaps and bounds since it was introduced to the general populace. The prosthetics department has provided millions of limbs to combat wounded veterans, and to children in need…"

Toni was mostly just nodding along as Friday spoke, busily poking through scans of her brain and finding them all lacking. She had no idea what was going on with her. Maybe she'd imagined it? But no, that would be impossible. Friday had said she felt her in her systems. Fri couldn't lie. So she needed to figure this out. The headache she was nursing didn't necessarily make her want to try again so soon, but it was killing her to not know. "Wait, wait. Back up a sec, Fri," she finally spoke, her brows furrowing as she looked away from the scans for the first time. "What was that about T'Challa?"

"King T'Challa has requested aid in the search for relief from an ongoing drought."

"Yeah, you said that. You also said _new_ head of R&D? What am I, chopped liver? They just replaced me?" she grumbled, but was already flipping her brain scans off and tugging open the email in question. T'Challa was a proud man, from what she remembered when they worked together to amend the Accords. He'd not just ask for help lightly. A low whistle emitted from her lips as she got her first look at the numbers. They were _grim_ if something didn't get fixed in the next couple of months. Wakanda could survive on its own for another year or so, but there were other countries around them that wouldn't be so lucky. "He wasn't kidding, was he, baby girl?" she murmured to Friday as she hunched over the holographic screens. He'd also sent along things his people had suggested as possible solutions, but it didn't take much more than a minute for Toni to already trash them. They wouldn't work long term, and that's what they needed more than anything.

God, what was she doing? She'd just said she wanted to take a break. Not to go back out there and let the world know she was alive. But damn it all if her bleeding heart wasn't already being tugged to Wakanda. "Fri, remember that project I was working on a year or two ago? It got pushed to the backburner cuz of… well, you know, but could you pull it up for me?"

And there it was: her rainmaker. Well, sort of. She'd meant to give it to him ages ago. She started it when they were working on the Accords together, when he'd first mentioned the droughts that sometime plagued his countries. Sometime between then and ratifying the amendments, clearing the Avengers' names, getting them home, and getting sick she'd lost the purpose entirely. It was rather hard to focus on making an atmospheric changing device when you were throwing up more times than not and trying to save your own life. Now she was faced with, yet again, not being able to give it to him. If she did he'd most certainly know she was alive. Getting a blueprint like this out of nowhere would be super suspicious, cuz no one was as smart as her and would be able to figure this out. That's what her ego liked to think, anyway. Honestly? The biggest issue would be how on earth some random person got King T'Challa's personal address to send it to.

Or maybe, and _big_ maybe, he'd be willing to keep her little secret. Tit for tat. He'd hidden the others away for awhile, given them sanctuary, so maybe it was only fair he do the same for her? But he works pretty closely with the Avengers these days too, from what she'd seen… "Fri, wanna give me the odds on T'Challa not ratting us out if I take this to him?"

"Boss," she sounded almost annoyed, but fond, "You know I can't calculate odds like that. There are too many variables."

"Yeah, yeah," Toni sighed, dragging a hand down her face. She already knew what she would do. Sure, she was selfish enough to keep her life a secret from her old friends and team, but she couldn't just sit around on her ass while entire countries starved and thirsted to death. "I can't catch a break, can I?"

"Seems to be the case, Boss." Friday's regretful tone only matches Toni's mood.

"Okay. Well, let's put our heads together on this. We don't know that he won't scream to the world that I'm alive and well, but whatever. Cross that bridge when we get there. First question should be how do I even get to Wakanda without being seen?"

"You did spend three weeks installing that stealth tech into your armor."

"Yeah, baby girl, I know I did. But we don't know how well it works."

"Initial tests seem to be promising."

The lilting tease in Friday's voice made Toni's face scrunch up in confusion before she jumped out of her skin as the Iron Man suit appeared in front of her, the chair she was in sent rocketing out behind her. "Holy _shit_ , Fri! Do not do that! Not cool! What the _fuck_."

"As I said, initial tests seem to be very promising," Friday teased again, and if she had a body Toni would've already thrown something.

"God, you'll be lucky if I don't program a nasty little virus into your system later. Show you what it's like to be snuck up on like that. Fuck." Despite all her griping Toni was still impressed, lightly patting the shoulder of the armor. It didn't _feel_ like it had been that long since she'd flown it to the cabin in the first place, but it had definitely been a while. "So, is the good King in his home right now? Do we know?" She made her way to a closet and started tugging a sweatshirt on, following by a pair of leggings and old sneakers. Who cared if she looked good? She was dead to the world.

"It appears that he is currently in a palace in Wakanda. A visit from several Avengers is scheduled in three days."

"Well, I guess we'll have to get in and out pretty quick then, won't we?" Toni teased, spreading her arms out as the armor approached and encased her. She had to hold back a sigh of content at the warm feeling spreading through her. She loved her armor, the power and flight, the _strength_ , the height. Not that she was a short woman by any means, but going from 5'9" to 6'1" was enough of a difference for her. Besides that, the Mark 42 was her favorite armor. It was lightweight, way more durable now than it had been during that Killian shit, and the mostly gold color scheme suited her more than the old red ones did.

The more relaxed she got the more she realized the suit actually felt… tighter? "Fri, what's up with the fit on this thing? I didn't gain weight, did I? Did Extremis make me fat?"

"No, Boss," Friday's words were quick, laced with what Toni was afraid to label as worry, "The armor seems to be constricting."

Toni blinked several times at her words, flexing her muscles and grimacing as she realized it was right. "Okay. Not _seems to be._ It _definitely_ is constricting me. Fri, why is my armor trying to choke me? Get it off me."

"I… the suit is no longer responding to outside command."

"What do you mean it isn't responding?" Toni hissed, one hand jerking toward her head for the manual release but only making it halfway. It stopped abruptly as the armor _creaked_ as it squeezed tighter than before. Toni cried out in alarm as it did, her lungs suddenly crushed by the force of the armor. It didn't ease up any from that point, the pain suddenly coursing through her in rivulets of absolute agony as the suit got tighter and tighter and tighter. Vaguely, she realized she was screaming and Friday was calling her name, but it was only briefly until she finally felt darkness slipping into her consciousness. And she fell willingly into it.

Hours could've passed, or maybe just minutes, but when Toni opened her eyes again it was with no pain whatsoever. A happy, relieved sigh left her lips as she slowly pushed herself up onto her elbows. When had she fallen to the ground? Was it before or after her suit choked the shit out of her?

"Boss?" Friday asked, her voice tentative and unsure. It sat unwell in Toni's stomach to hear that tone from her youngest kid.

"Yeah, Fri, I'm up," she breathed out, groaning as she plopped backwards onto her rear. The "no pain" phase was apparently over, because every part of her body ached so fiercely she could've sworn she had the flu on steroids. Her hand came up at the thought to feel her forehead, skin meeting skin and finding it to be an acceptable temperature. "What happened, Fri? How'd you get it off me?"

"I didn't, Boss. The suit absorbed _inside_ of you."

And not for the first time that day Toni found herself at a loss for words. Her hand came forefront in her vision as she held it out in front of her, but other than looking a little red it was just her normal hand. There was no gauntlet there. No signs of forced entry. It was totally fine. A totally normal hand. The suit could not have just disappeared inside of her like some sort of freak show.

But then her hand started to change the more she thought about it. The longer she pictured what her hand had looked like inside of the armor. And slowly, with sweat dripping from her brow, her hand became encased in the gold and red gauntlet of her armor that just… grew from inside her skin?

"What the hell?"

She didn't have time for this. She didn't want _this_. Whatever this even was. She just wanted to be healthy. See: not sick. No heart disease. No crappy lungs. No hole in her chest. No cancer. Nothing. Zilch. Nadda.

But she couldn't ever have anything so _simple_ , could she? First the weird brain thing, now this? Extremis had _definitely_ modified something, but she was seriously lacking in equipment to find out what. "This is Extremis. Gotta be."

"Considering that is the only new factor, Boss, I have to agree. However, my scans still show nothing beyond a thickening in bone density."

"Well, gotta store all that armor somewhere, I guess," Toni murmured, fighting her way to her feet. "Ugh. This fuckin' sucks, Fri. I feel like I've been hit by a train."

"Should we postpone the trip to Wakanda?"

"Nah. They need our help, and with luck they'll have some equipment I might be able to use to find out what's going on with me, y'know? We've got some good stuff here, but I didn't consider any of… this, when we were moving in. Upload everything to my tablet and I'll take it with me." While Friday worked on that Toni took a deep breath to steady herself, closing her eyes as she tried to focus. She'd managed the gauntlet before, but doing the whole suit seemed like a monumental task. Not to mention she kept getting distracted by her achy body, an itch here or there, the sounds of the fluorescent lights… but slowly, surely, she felt her body being wrapped up in armor again. When she felt totally covered she opened her eyes again, swallowing down the bile when she realized she was, in fact, in her armor again. "Fuck me, Fri. This is a lot harder than it looks."

"I've been recording information as you… worked, and I would concur that it appears to be quite difficult. Your molecular structure seems to change and adapt as the armor comes up from your bones. The request tablet is finished and awaiting pickup."

"Thanks, Fri," she murmured, taking a few awkward steps to the computer it had been plugged into. It felt like she was wearing a second skin. Technically, it had always felt like a second skin, but this was different. Like it was an honest to god second skin. Which, considering it came out of her, the description wasn't too far off. "Okay. Wakanda. T'Challa. Nap. Drought. In that order. Maybe pen in a half hour for lunch. Let's get hoppin', baby girl. No rest for the wicked."

She took the few steps into the cool mountain air, breathing it in for a moment before her stealth systems engaged and she was airborne, zipping across the sky toward Wakanda.


	3. Chapter 3

_AN: Hey! Smaller update, but still moving along. I had a couple of reviews so far, one from the lovely ILuvCupcakes2000 that I responded to personally, and another from a guest to the site. As far as your concerns go, dear guest, I had never intended for this to come off as a Stony fic. As it stands, I have no intent for any slash whatsoever. If the opportunity arises later and it makes sense I'll consider it, but as of right now it's strictly platonic business. I just flipped the gender on Stark. Nothing else out of the ordinary. I know I said if you squint it could be Stony, but I really meant that. It's a hard squint, and only if you wanna read into it that way._

 _And for this new update I have to say I'm superbly nervous. Black Panther comes out within a few weeks, and I'm just working off my own assumptions of what Wakanda is like. When I find out how horribly wrong I am I'll try to fix it, but for now it is what it is. If anyone has any suggestions, feedback, etc., just leave me a review and I'll get back to you! It won't be this slow build up forever, and as things start moving along the pace will quicken exponentially. For now we're all just stuck getting through this stage._

* * *

Less than three hours later she was doing a cursory fly-over of the palace, questioning herself again on whether or not she actually wanted to follow through on this. It was nothing like the first time she'd come to the country, sliding through the various force fields (that she was highly jealous of) only at the behest of the king himself. Slipping through without setting off perimeter alarms this time was a challenge, but she'd managed. She didn't just call herself a computer whiz for show, after all. She could still just send him the files, hope he realized they were legit, and fucked off on her merry way. Spent her newfound retirement in obscurity on some fancy beach somewhere. But that would be way too easy. Her life was anything but easy.

That in mind Toni slowly descended, timing her propulsion jets to ease and go to lessen the noise. She'd already determined what rooms the king himself would most likely be in, and she'd tried to find subtle paths to get there but… well, there was gonna be nothing subtle to it. She was gonna waltz right on in, true Toni Stark style, and demand attention. It was what people expected from her now. Who was she to disappoint?

The only issue was that, as she found herself quietly landing on the balcony to a private office and looking into the window, she saw a portrait of a young king stressed to his limits. He was bent over a desk, papers strewn about, arguing adamantly with what she could only assume was someone on the other end of a call. It hurt her poor, gentle, caring heart to watch. All the desire she'd had to come in with a glowing halo like a guardian angel vanished, and she instead felt like a more tame approach would be way more suitable. Tactful, even. There's a word nobody every associated with her.

She waited until he stopped speaking for a few moments, and when she was satisfied he was no longer on a call (it would be downright rude to interrupt, and she didn't know who he was talking to and if he'd slip her name to them while he was talking). The armor dissolved back into her flesh, leaving her with a shiver that went up her spine at the unfamiliar sensation. It was easier this time around, but fuck if it wasn't disconcerting. Toni paused as she approached the double doors of the balcony, suddenly realizing she had absolutely no plan for this. Not that she'd ever followed plans, but this was the Black Panther. And he had a bunch of scary people working for him who could kill her eight ways to Sunday.

Well, she was nothing if not brazen, so with a shrug of her shoulders she set her jaw and simply pulled the doors open in a flourish, waltzing right into the room like she owned it. She made no other noise than that, her hands held in front of her, palms open and facing him. She wanted to look in no way threatening, but it didn't matter as T'Challa had jumped to his feet and would've tackled her had she not thrown herself to the side. "Whoa, whoa, same sides! Meow Mix, chill, it's me! Toni! You know, Toni Stark? The one and only? Super not dead, by the way! You don't gotta kill me. T'Challa. Seriously. Back off. I should've knocked, I know. I just have this thing about being dramatic. I can't not do it, you know? It's like an addiction. If I see an opportunity I gotta take it."

She knew she was rambling as he leveled her with the most amusing expression, a mixture of pure confusion, anger, and something else she couldn't quite put her tongue on. But he wasn't trying to attack her anymore, so she took it as a win. "Yeah, see? You know it's me. I, uh, got botox? No, that sounds lame. Plastic surgery. Way more believable, right? Billionaire scared of a few wrinkles, disappears, comes back looking twenty years younger? The tabloids would eat that story up."

"You have been missing, presumed dead, for eight months, Stark, and you are making jokes?" T'Challa didn't necessarily look less tense, but he looked like he was _thinking_ and she could get behind that. If he'd believed her outright she'd have never let him down. It would've been the foolish thing to do.

"It's a coping mechanism. Surprisingly not my worst one," she watched with bated breath as he still regarded her with suspicion, "And the, uh, dead thing? If we could just keep that little charade going, maybe? I'm not necessarily against it, you see? Like, I didn't _plan_ it-don't look at me like that-but I like it. It's… refreshing. I can do whatever I want. No stress. Like make a big ol' rainmaker for some countries that desperately need it within the next couple of months before they bleed themselves dry." She all but groaned when his expression didn't change, shifting on her feet. "Okay. Not working for you then. Wave a big can of tuna under your nose and you ignore it. Fine. How about… it was May, I think? Maybe April. June? I dunno. I don't pay attention to months. But we were working on the Accords, amending them for my shit tier teammates. We'd been at it like six, seven hours, no breaks, and you look at me out of nowhere like you've had this earth shattering revelation except it wasn't. You had just realized that I wrote in an entire goddamn chapter to get Barnes off the hook for good, and others like him. And if my ego wasn't already so big it would've grown a million times more that day, cuz you basically worshipped the ground I walked on for the next week."

It took several moments of silence between them, a staring contest that, frankly, Toni was getting bored of, before he spoke. "I did _not_ worship the ground you walked on." And that was that. The tension broke, and T'Challa walked straight to her, placing his hands on her shoulders as he seriously looked at her. "Stark. It is good to see you, of course, but-..."

"But you want an explanation, right?" She sighed. She'd expected it, had practiced it over and over on her trip, but she still wasn't sure what to say. And she was _exhausted_. And hungry. She could eat a horse. Maybe even two.

"An explanation would be good, yes," T'Challa agreed readily, releasing her shoulders and taking a step back. He probably was just making sure she was real, but she couldn't fault him for it. "You look awful, Stark."

She snorted at that, shaking her head. "Wow. Not pulling any punches, huh? _I_ thought I looked pretty good, all things considered," she paused, glancing to the door to the hallway and back to him with a quirk to her lips, "What do you say we talk over dinner? I'm _starving_. It's not good to keep your resident genius hungry. Things blow up. It's awful."

"I'll have something brought in," T'challa deferred instead, reclaiming his seat at his desk and motioning to the one across from him. "If you truly do not wish for the world to know of your existence then it would be prudent we discuss things privately, and come up with a plan from there."

She couldn't help but to eye him warily as she took the proffered seat, crossing her legs neatly and folding her hands on her knee. It was all she could do to not let her leg bounce to show her nerves. "Okay," she spoke easily, letting a pleasant smile fall into place. It was practiced, and easy. She'd had to put on this smile billions of times, and most the time she felt like she probably perfected it before she even came out of the womb. It was the media smile. All fake, pleasant business. "I've gotta admit, kitty litter, I wasn't expecting this to be so easy. Am I really that charming?"

T'Challa's own media smile could rival her own, she figured. He was all good nature as he chuckled at her words. "On the contrary, Ms. Stark. For the sake of transparency," his dark eyes focused onto her own, making her fidget ever so slightly, "I find it prudent to say that you simply do not look like you could stand much longer, let alone fight me, if that were to be your purpose."

 _Transparency_. Toni hated that word. It was what they used way back in the day, when the young king finally told her he was harboring the ex-Avengers in his home. She'd known that already, because of course she did, but him finally telling her set everything into motion. They'd made a promise to remain transparent throughout their work together, and that was probably the only reason they made so much progress so quickly. And also why she, despite her best interests, found herself liking the younger man. He was a good, honest king. And smart. She could get behind that. "For _transparency_ ," she bit out, though the bitterness all but melted the longer they stared each other down, "I would say that I could totally take you if you wanted to have a go. But tomorrow. After a nap. Then it's fair game." And that was as much as she would tell him. She just didn't tell people when she felt like shit. It wasn't in her nature anymore. She was Toni fuckin' Stark, and she could take care of herself. Most the time.

To his credit, T'Challa seemed to understand what she was saying and leaned back into his chair, becoming the picture of a relaxed friend. He didn't even look like he'd been so stressed a few minutes ago that Toni could practically see the crows feet growing around his eyes. "What happened to you, Stark?"

His question brought her to a pause, weighing her options. Transparency would be good, but it brought a lot of risks with it. Could she tell him about Extremis? Maybe. So long as he didn't want it for himself. But when do people ever not want what was hers? She could never just have a thing, someone else always wanted it. But also, she was about to ask this man to harbor her in his country, give her access to lab equipment and money so she could build something for him and look into her new condition. And on top of that, she was asking him to keep it all a secret from the world. Maybe she owed it to him to be honest, just one time.

She coughed awkwardly, clearing her throat as she leaned back as well, not bothering to hide the wince as her sore muscles contracted awkwardly. "Right. Well, not dead. Obviously." Smooth start, Stark. She grimaced as the man merely raised a brow in her direction. "Sort of died. Maybe a few times? I didn't really go through all the data yet. The lab I had in the cabin was good, but not as good as I need. Which led me here, obviously. And I do want to help with the ongoing crisis, don't think I forgot about that, but I'm not gonna lie and say me being here isn't for more than one reason. I'll help you make a rain machine, already got more than half of it done, so don't worry about that. I just also need to run some diagnostic tests on… myself. And to keep a low profile. Like, really low."

T'Challa made a noncommittal noise as a knock sounded from the wooden doors, leaving his seat to go retrieve a tray from whoever had knocked. He wasn't letting anyone in the room, so Toni took that as a good sign. She could still win him over. He made his way back with the tray, laden with fruits she'd never seen, some bread, cheese, and what looked like a small assortment of ham? Maybe. Whatever it was, she wanted it. Desperately. With a fervor she hadn't fully understood until her stomach growled so loudly she was sure the Avengers in the states could've heard it. She waited all of three seconds after he sat down and motioned at the tray to dig in like a man possessed.

To his credit, T'Challa remained quiet as she tore into the offerings, only watching her with lightly veiled amusement. "When is the last time you ate, Stark?" he asked her innocently enough, still relaxed into his chair.

She wasn't stupid though. He'd worked with her enough times to know she often forgot to, or simply decided not to, eat. It was a character flaw that she was pretty sure the whole world knew about. This time was different. She'd been comatose for so long, and then sidetracked by everything hitting her at once, that she completely disregarded her body's basic needs. "Ah, uh," her eyes wandered to the ceiling as she thought back, snapping her attention back to him when she had done the math, "Eight months, thirty-two hours, and some odd minutes. Something like that."

Either that _really_ wasn't the answer he expected or he'd suddenly found his pant leg on fire, because he went from sitting back in his seat to being on his feet in an instant, rounding the desk between them and tugging her face away from where it had been studying the best way to create a finger sandwich. She felt his fingers hovering over the pulse point of her neck, and the other hand moved to tug at her eyelids. She grimaced at the contact, trying to pull away but to no avail. "Let me go, I'm fine, totally healthy. Healthier than I've been in years. I had an eight month long nap, that's all. Seriously. Let go of me." Dread settled into the corners of her mind the longer he held on, realizing in a solemn epiphany that Extremis had fixed her _physically_ , but she was still just as fucked up inside her head as she was eight months ago. Of course, it was a stretch to presume her good fortune would extend that far, despite the apparent physical enhancements.

He backed off and she felt herself take a quick, desperate, shuddering breath as their distance increased. She hadn't even realized she'd stopped breathing the longer he held onto her, focused so inwardly on her own thoughts and growing panic. God, she was so fucked up. Five years ago that kind of contact wouldn't have even phased her. Now? Now she had barely contained panic attacks just _thinking_ about people touching her. "I was dying. I fixed it. I went into a coma. It was expected. I woke up. I came here. That's the story."

T'Challa kept his distance this time, though the concern on his face was still clear as day. She knew her terse, simple sentences weren't the most forthcoming, but all she wanted was to have a snack, nap, figure her shit out, and make a goddamn rain machine. Was that too much to ask?

"Not at all." His words dragged her out of her own mind again, Toni's eyes focusing uneasily on him. She had been voicing her thoughts, if the look on his face was anything to go by. "In fact, Ms. Stark, I have my people preparing a guest room for you already. You must understand my concern however. It is quite a shock to have a dead woman break into your palace, regardless of her identity."

She snorted in response, feeling the tense lines of her shoulders ease as the conversation became something more manageable. Something less emotional. "Out of everyone you know, meow mix, you should've realized I'd be the one to come back from the dead. C'mon. Death's just not my style."

"Indeed, Ms. Stark. You do seem to have a curious habit of avoiding it. Come now, let me show you to your room. We can speak more in the morning." He motioned widely for her to follow him, taking care to keep an arm's length from her. She appreciated it. A lot.

"You're not the only one allowed to have nine lives, Josie," she teased, following him out of the office they'd been in. His guards eyed her warily, looking as gorgeous and terrifying as always, and followed at a respectable speed behind them.

By the time they'd finally said their good nights, the door shut and her shoes off, she was exhausted. Thoroughly, completely, totally, to the bone exhausted. She didn't even care that she could hear people murmuring just out her door. It was T'Challa's right to have her watched. She wouldn't trust her either, regardless of their conversation. It was stupendously trusting of him to even let it go as far as it had.


	4. Chapter 4

_AN: So sorry for this VERY SHORT update! I'm experimenting here, and I want feedback before I really go all out on this train of thought. I was considering trying to touch upon some memories of each Avenger with Toni? If that tickles your fancy let me know, if not I'll lay off it and get back to regularly scheduled angst in Wakanda. Also, I just saw Spider-Man Homecoming (super late to the party, I know), and I'm in love. So expect some Mama Bear Stark at some point. Probably sooner rather than later. (Also, afterthought, how do y'all feel about the Defenders?)_

 _I also wanna say thanks to all those who are reading, and those leaving reviews! I always respond to reviews, so it's the best way to get in contact with me if you ever wanna nerd out over MCU._

 _Kushio3, I know those feels when you can't remember your login stuff, and it's no problem. I'm glad I could clarify for you last chapter! You are definitely right that Toni doesn't trust anyone right now. T'Challa is just the small exception that she banks on his kingliness to keep him in line._

* * *

With a groan she fell onto the plush bed, relishing the feeling of down blankets and pillows. It was nothinglike the silk she had at home in the compound, but it would do. "Hey Fri?" she whispered into the quietness, sliding the tablet she'd hid in her waistband out to lay on the bed beside her.

Friday, having been connected to it since she left the Alps, answered quickly. "Yeah, Boss?"

"What'd your scans show? Anything at all?" Toni murmured, sliding under the blankets and curling onto her side to look at the screen. Sure, she was gonna do more tomorrow and probably better tests, but she was curious _now_.

"You're sending off some weird signals out of your brain, your bone density has greatly increased now, the nanites in your bloodstream have settled seamlessly with the rest of your body's systems."

"Wha'd'ya mean "weird signals"," she slurred out, a yawn overcoming her. "Is it the stuff from earlier? Am I a giant computer now, Fri? Why else would I have accessed your systems like that?" Her eyes were busily scanning over the reports on screen, seeing the change in coding at the time in which she had her… incident, in the shower. It was too weird, but considering her life? She'd seen gods, an alien army, fought beside a man lost in time and witnessed magic. Why not just accept whatever this was? It certainly didn't seem to be hurting her. Her body was continuously checking in with phenomenal readings. She was almost certain she'd put even Captain America to the test with how great she was doing now.

Well, probably not in a fistfight, but in a fight of peak health? Maybe. Or she was just trying to one-up him again, even though he wasn't around. Old habits are the hardest to break. God, thinking about him just sent her spiraling back to Berlin, back when she was still desperately trying to convince him to see her side of it. To see _reason_ above all else. Sitting across from him with a very old, very expensive set of pens, trying to appeal to him in every way she knew how. He just couldn't do it. He was so blinded by his Bucky that nothing else mattered.

And now, with the clarity only hindsight gives a person, she could understand why. She still hated it. She'll probably hate it until she actually dies.

" _... but he's my friend."_

" _So was I."_

" _Do you even remember them?"_

" _I remember all of them."_

Those words still haunt her. She'd saved their asses after the fact, cleared their names, given them a roof to live under, money and toys, but it didn't fix much. They'd not really spoken much once they got back. Not for lack of trying on Steve's part. She'd just kept herself so busy he literally couldn't have a chance to talk to her. Maybe it was petty, but it was better than dealing with it all over again. She'd taken knives in the back plenty of times before him, but it just stung so much more when it was Captain America doing it. That meant the others barely got to speak with her too, Rhodey included, but it was a worth it setup. Ironically, the only one she really had regular contact with for a while was Barnes, while she fixed his arm and his brain.

 _That_ had been an ordeal in and of itself. It had taken two weeks of just trying to touch the inside of his arm without him going all super soldier on her before she'd slammed her tools down, pushing her chair five feet back from him and leveling him with a glare that could topple buildings. He was pissy she wouldn't let his best butt buddy into the lab to hold his hand and put a bandaid over his boo-boo, but she damn well didn't care. She was _trying_ to do the nice thing.

"Okay. Fuck it. Look, Barnes," she'd began speaking at the time, the bite in her tone seething as she tapped her foot against the ceramic tile. "I get it. I know what it's like to be fucking experimented on with no sedatives. I do." Her chest had tensed at that, and she'd expected it. Her fist balled up and moved to rub idly at the place her reactor used to be, the phantom feeling of it bothering her more than she'd ever admit. She hated thinking about the caves. The open heart surgery with only chloroform to give her any sort of relief (which, spoiler alert: it was not relief at all). Talking about it was gonna fucking suck, but she was a big girl and she could damn well grit her teeth and get through it, especially if it meant this quality time with James Buchanan Barnes could get to an end sooner.

"Open heart surgery in a goddamn cave in Afghanistan, with only chloroform to try to knock me out, and a car battery to keep pieces of shrapnel from shredding my heart. So I get it. I understand your wariness. And I know you and I aren't necessarily friends, or even allies at this point, but I need you to understand I'm not about to do something to hurt you. I'm gonna get in quick and shut off the sensors before I even attach the thing, and once it's on and secure we'll turn it on and that'll be that. We already got through the hard part, fixing up what was left of it after I fucking destroyed the last one."

The air between them seemed to freeze as her words truly sunk in, their eyes locked. They'd studiously avoided the topic of Siberia like the plague since the gang got back together. It was even more taboo than her being within a twenty foot radius of Barton at any given time. But now, staring at him with those thoughts hanging between them, she realized what needed to be said more than anything else. Something she'd realized just a few short weeks after they'd fought.

"I'm sorry. About the uh," she inhaled deeply as she tried to figure out what to say. It had never been easy for her to express her feelings, and all of this was running way too close together. "The arm. The fight? That was my bad. I overreacted. I'm sorry."

And just like that it was like a thread snapped between them. Barnes had nearly leapt out of his seat at her words, crossing the threshold between them to where she'd stood as well. She had one finger pressed against the bracelets that would call her suit to her, but at this range she knew it would be useless. If he wanted her dead she'd die, quick and easy. But instead of killing her, or hitting her, or even reaching out to touch her, he just stood there. He stood and stared at her like a broken man trying to piece together the words to say. Honestly, she'd admitted it plenty of times before, from the very public trials defending the rogue Avengers straight to the neutral meetings with T'Challa and the old team. She fucked up too, and she was willing to admit it.

"I killed your parents," he finally blurted out, after what seemed to be a monumental wrestling match within his own mind. "Stark. I killed your parents. You should not be apologizing to me. I'm a monster."

Her lips formed a silent _oh_ in understanding, finally piecing the bits together. He didn't think he was worth it. Probably blamed himself for all of the people he'd killed over the years, even though Hydra had controlled his brain for it all. What an idiot. Then again, she's all to familiar with that train of thought herself. That's exactly what she's been doing for _years_ because of the weapons she'd built. That single thought brought all the others to their knees, her throat dry and her eyes itchy. She coughed awkwardly, breaking eye contact with him. "I'm suddenly parched," she finally managed to mumble out, making her way over to another counter. She reached under it to pull out a half-empty bottle of whisky, followed shortly by two tumblrs.

She turned around with the procured items with intent of offering one to him only to find him starting to beat a hasty retreat, making her frown in frustration. "Hey. No. Lock it down, Fri. Get back here, Barnes. We are having a drink, goddamnit."

Toni sat the glasses down on the table she'd discarded her tool on before, popping the top off the whisky and pouring it evenly between the two. Her first sip was harsh, but warm and relieving as it made its way through her system. Alcohol was a good release. Sure, she was an alcoholic, but she could still function. "The bottle probably costs more than your entire outfit, Barnes, don't be rude," she chided, sliding his untouched glass closer to him. He seemed… very unsure, though he'd made his way back to her now. She couldn't make him drink it, but it made her feel better when he at least glanced at it. "We're more alike than we realized, y'know?" she finally bit out, staring down into the amber liquid in her cup instead of at him. It would be much harder to admit if she were looking at him. "I blame myself for deaths out of my control too. I made weapons, before all this. I'm sure you know all about that. And-... Ultron. Yeah. So a lot of people have died because of me. So I get that. I'd be a hypocrite if I told you to stop thinking that way, but just… I forgive you. Okay? I know what Hydra did to you. Back in that bunker it wasn't so clear, but hindsight's always 20/20, right?"

A bitter, wry laugh escaped her lips before she quickly chased it away with another drink. God, everything about this was still so fucked up. Her attention shifted as the ignored glass was suddenly touched, scraping off the metal as Barnes lifted it to his lips and took a tentative sip. Their eyes locked as he took a bigger drink, sitting the glass back down once he was done. "It tastes like shit to be so expensive," his words were terse, maybe a little too tight, but it was a rope out of the awkward, heavy mood they'd found themselves in and Toni latched onto it eagerly.

"Go fuck yourself, Barnes," she snorted out, throwing back the rest of her drink and pointing at the chair. "Sit back down. Let's get this over with, okay? And then you can continue to insult my excellent taste in liquors."

He complied easily, and they fell into a companionable silence as his shiny, new StarkTech arm was installed. It was nice. After that very emotionally charged hour Toni was more comfortable around him than she had been, which was nice, but she didn't let it go much further than that. He'd give her a heads up if Clint was around, sometimes she'd find food sitting outside the lab doors, but otherwise they just left their relationship as it was.

Not really a friendship, but definitely not as bitter as the relationships Toni had with pretty much every other member of the new Avengers. She'd enjoyed their truce for as long as it lasted before she started getting sick, locking herself away more and more until she finally took all her projects and moved away from them all. When the food Barnes brought her started tasting like ash more than sandwiches, and her vomit was more blood than bile, she ran. It was what she was good at. It's what she's doing now, in Wakanda. Running. Because that's who Toni Stark is. A coward. A murderer.


	5. Chapter 5

_AN: Hey y'all. Time for a new update! :D Once again, huge thanks for the support. I got some good feedback off the last chapter and I intend to try to include more flashbacks in the future. Or I might start a standalone "story" full of one-shots based in this universe if I can't find a way to incorporate what I write into the story proper. That way it won't be flashbacks, it'll just be story content in and of itself that you can reference to understand certain things going on here. Which, by the way, I'm super stoked for what's going to happen!_

 _Important question I'm asking here: does anyone wanna beta read some stuff for me? Not necessarily this story, per se, but some content that might end up in this story? It's mostly Peter Parker stuff, one offs that I've started and I'm not sure if I should finish or not. Or maybe even end up reading through stuff for this story. Or letting me bounce ideas off of them like an overexcited kid on Christmas. Stuff like that. If anyone's interested just shoot me a PM and we can talk more about it! Okay, on to the story now! Thanks y'all!_

* * *

She jerked up with a gasp, sweat beading on her forehead as the blankets piled around her hips. She'd fallen asleep without realizing it, dreaming of a time long since gone. Something she'd never get to experience again. A shiver ran down her spine as she gathered the blankets back up around her torso, leaning back against the pillows and grabbing blindly for the tablet she'd left beside her. She didn't care what time it was. She wasn't sleepy anymore. Dreams that vivid only ever meant the nightmares were coming, and she wasn't in the mood to deal with it.

Instead she dragged herself out of bed, her feet dragging behind her as she trudged toward what she assumed would be a connected bathroom. They may have had a very, _very_ strange and short meeting yesterday, but T'Challa was nothing if not an amazing host. She was very pleasantly surprised to find the bathroom already fully stocked, shedding her slept in clothes and stepping into the spacious shower. The warm water did wonders to ease away the tension lingering from her dreams, and the cool tile against her forehead as she leaned against the wall settled her mind. What was she even doing? She'd just woken up, saved her own goddamn life, and then what? Made a series of brash decisions that led her to hiding in Wakanda like a rogue Avenger?

Yeah. That's exactly what she'd done. She groaned and gently hit her forehead against the tiles. It was stupid. She'd just done the impossible, yet she felt like she needed to hide it and herself away. Hell, she _did_ deserve to have a good vacation after the shit she'd been through. She'd worked her ass off for years to get to this point. She'd fought tooth and nail for every single thing she had, and had fought even harder to _keep_ what she had when things got tough. But now? She wasn't sure she wanted to fight. Honestly. She signed on as a _consultant_. Not a soldier. But somewhere along the lines, between Loki being a piece of shit and one helicarrier engine dying, she'd become exactly what she had yelled at Rogers that they weren't. Soldiers.

How could that heated conversation be so far in the past now? It still felt like yesterday. If she closed her eyes and really concentrated, she could even smell the mixture of sweat, metal, ozone, and something woodsy (later she would discover it was the old man aftershave Steve uses). Literal years had passed since then. It was insane. She was _old_.

The one thing that didn't change over the years though was the fact that thinking about that day they'd all been on the helicarrier when all hell broke loose made her smile. Specifically, remembering how fucking sassy Captain America could actually be when he was out of his element.

" _It seems to run on some form of electricity."_

" _Well, you're not wrong."_

 _..._

" _Speak_ _ **English**_ _."_

" _See that red lever?"_

It had been hilarious after the fact. After she'd almost died on the wrong side of a wormhole to hell. Having to walk Rogers through resetting relays was probably the highlight of her week back then. Hearing him engaged in a firefight over their open commlink while she tried to fix the engine had been a hell of a shock, but she knew enough about him from his file (and the thousands of stories her dad had told her growing up) to know that he could hold his own. That had been the first of many times she'd trusted Steve Rogers with her life. The last time had been when he held a shield above her body, switching his aim to her arc reactor instead of her neck. It had been a mercy. He'd shown her mercy, a final act of kindness, before he left her to freeze alone in _Siberia_ of all places.

God. Apparently one night of iffy dreams was more than enough to set the mood for her entire day.

Toni groaned and fumbled at the shower controls, dragging herself out of the steamy decadence and into the slightly cooler air of the room. A pile of thick towels quickly found use drying herself off, and a red robe hanging on the back of the door was good enough for her. The color wasn't lost on her, considering it was _her_ red. The Iron Man red. But whatever, for now it was warm and soft and she didn't have any clothes that didn't reek of nightmare sweat.

When she finally made it back out into the bedroom she was surprised to find a younger woman there, laying out a set of clothes that looked to be Toni's size, and T'Challa himself lingering in the doorway. Had she been younger, more spry and virtuous, she would've blushed at the fact she was only clothed in a robe in the same room as a king. As it stood now, she could honestly care less. Nudity was the most basic, normal thing of the universe. You're born nude, after all. Can't get more natural than that. Not to mention all the times she'd ended up hurt, pulled out of armor, and patched up around more people than she could be bothered to remember. Modesty just stopped existing in her life after a while.

"What, did I miss a birthday?" Toni jabbed innocently, her steps taking her at a slow, confident pace to the bed. The clothes were absolutely something she'd wear, all the way from the designer to the colors. The pants were pressed straight, a sharp black that would go down to her ankles and cut off there, hugging her legs just snug enough to not look odd; the top was vivid purple blouse, with two thick straps for sleeves and three tight buttons at the neck that she would absolutely not be leaving buttoned up like that; a cutaway blazer that was the same black as the pants, and a pair of flats that seemed practical and sturdy enough for her to wear in a lab. All in all, it was a good haul. A suspiciously good haul.

"I assumed you would feel more comfortable in your own clothes," T'Challa's answer came smoothly, making Toni's brows furrow as she looked at him incredulously. He seemed rather smug with himself.

"My own clothes?" She repeated back to him, taking a second look at the outfit. She seriously didn't recognize them. Had she left clothes here back when she'd been working with him on the Accords? She didn't think so, but she was rather busy so it was always a possibility.

The smug smirk on his face had yet to go away as T'Challa watched her trying to figure it out, which grew into a laugh the longer it went on. "They aren't _your_ clothes, per se, but clothes designed with your namesake. This is _Stark_ brand. All of it."

And that was when it set in, and Toni groaned, her entire posture slumping at the realization. "Pepper. Pepper finally got her claws in the clothing industry, didn't she? She had to wait until I died to finally do it. God, she's terrifyingly brilliant. It's a foolproof plan. I left her enough shit in the will that she could've made twenty clothing lines if she wanted, and she absolutely did, didn't she?"

It was the one industry Toni had always wanted to stay out of. It just seemed so… cliche. Everyone was always watching how she dressed and trying to replicate it. Making her own line of clothes just seemed too… what, pretentious? Yeah. Her own clothing line was much too pretentious, but making a suit of red and gold armor and flying around like a god was definitely _not_ pretentious.

"Indeed. Miss Potts took the fashion industry by storm three months ago. It seems she's slated to revolutionize the world of clothing by the end of the year," T'Challa informed her, and though his amusement had died down Toni could tell he was watching her. Weighing her reactions.

Not that she blamed him. She was proud of Pepper, of course. Pepper was a genius in her own right, and anything she put her mind to she could always succeed at. She had taken the reins as CEO of SI more fluidly and brilliantly than Toni herself ever had, after all. But that also came with the territory of their… less than stable history. Their relationship had always been built on the shakiest of foundations, each of them grasping onto the aspects of each other they liked, trying to ignore those they didn't. After the Mandarin incident Toni had thought she'd lost Pepper for good, but a few months later they were getting engaged publicly (wasn't the plan, of course, but the Spider-Kid had kind of forced Toni's hand into it). The engagement lasted all of two months before it started to fall through, no fault of Pepper's. Toni just couldn't change in the ways Pepper needed, and Pepper respected her too much to try to force the change.

"Well, she always said she was gonna do it someday," Toni demurred, lifting up the black box that she knew would have underwear in it. "And she never half-asses anything. If she was gonna do it, I'd expect her to do it good. TIME best get a hold of her quick and throw her on the cover this time instead of me. There are only so many years in a row they can get by with Toni Stark being person of the year."

She didn't care if her answer was good enough for T'Challa or not. She'd spent most her morning reminiscing already, and she didn't intend to continue the trend. "Aren't you a king, or something?" she asked him instead, turning to raise a brow at him. "Are there no king-ly things for you to do? Like… kissing babies? Watching jousting matches? Hiring a court jester?"

Her attempt at deflective humor wasn't lost on T'Challa. It was one of her many charming personality quirks, after all.

"Oh, yes. I'm set to watch the next guillotine execution in twenty minutes," T'Challa played along, his grin growing to match Toni's. "And by that, I mean I have a conference call with the UN."

"Oooh, ouch, yeah. That's pretty much the same thing," Toni grimaced, tossing the box she'd been toying with back down on the bed. "Something I should be aware of?"

"Just ongoing efforts to assist Africa during the drought."

T'Challa's answer came easily, too easily, but Toni wouldn't call him on it. If it was actually important she'd be told. Probably. Or she would've been, back when everyone thought she was alive. Being dead complicated things. For being a self-professed futurist, she really screwed the pooch on that one. She didn't think about the future _at all_ when she was injecting herself with what she would say was basically liquid fire. That was no one's fault but her own, just an unexpected consequence of the series of decisions that led her down the path to saving her own life.

"Well, your salvation for _that_ particular problem is ready and rearin' to go. Give me a place and two weeks, and all your problems will be a thing of the past." She accentuated her words with a wink, self-assured in the only thing she could actually do. Building things, fixing things, that was her safe space. That's what she was meant to do, not play at being a superhero come politician.

"A space has already been procured for you," T'Challa nodded along, easing himself off the doorway he'd been leaned against. "Once you're dressed someone will show you there."

The pause at the end of his sentence was enough to have her looking at him again, already feeling the small bit of hope she'd had at just being able to make something ebb away. "But?"

"But there is something we need to discuss. I have an hour free for lunch. Someone will come for you when I'm ready."

And with that he left, taking with him all her thoughts of just having a nice, post-near death experience vacation. That tone of voice was a universal one for "shit is getting real and I don't know what to do about it". She'd heard that same tone in her own voice more times than she could count. The only difference was that here, in this time, she was more experienced than him. He was looking for her to advise him. There was something going on that he felt he needed Toni Stark's advice on, and that left a gnawing pit in her stomach to think about over the next few hours.

Luckily enough, she was able to push that line of thought to the side as she was shown to the lab he had so graciously prepared for her after she got dressed. It wasn't overly fancy. It was definitely nothing she'd have made for herself, but it was still nice. She'd definitely worked in worse conditions before.

She even had a couple of assistants buzzing around her, asking her twenty questions and helping her upload her schematics into their system. She had never worked well with people in the past, but it was almost gratifying to watch the kids hard at work with her brainchild. It almost made her wonder if she'd been like them at their age, in their mid 20s and full of untainted dreams. She hadn't been like them of course, but she could pretend she had been. There was no super famous, rich, superhero mentor for her to look up to and guide her projects. The fact that she'd become the person to fill that gap for other generations wasn't lost on her. She'd seen the fruits of her labor with Peter after letting him spend time with her in her lab. He was way more careful making his webs after that.

The other thing she liked about having these assistants was that as they gathered materials for the rain machine she could focus on her other issues. Namely Extremis. She was more than a little concerned that Friday had yet to be able to discern anything of use from her scans.

But she was also more than a little wary of taking running blood tests here. She trusted T'Challa as much as she could, all things considered, but it was a whole new territory for her. For starters, biology was more Bruce's camp than hers. She'd have to do a hell of a lot of reading. Then there was the fact that she _really_ didn't want the chances of anyone else getting a whiff of what she'd done. It had de-aged her, taken away her scars, her illnesses, and left her in a younger and healthier body. If she didn't know any better she'd have likened it to Erskine's formula, except with the added benefit of whatever the fuck it was when it sucked her suit inside of her skin. If she were able to put Friday into T'Challa's systems she'd feel more confident, but that would be a huge overstep on her part.

Her hands were metaphorically tied for the time being. She'd just have to do some experiments with whatever this was on her own time without any tests to back her up. Get Friday pulled up through the tab and have her clock how long it took to call the armor out of her, try to connect with her AI again through whatever _that_ was. See what all the limits were. It'd be riskier and take longer, but hell, she had nothing but time now.

What she could and would definitely do for now though is hack into the Avengers compound systems through her tablet. She'd woken up with the itch after her vivid dream, after thinking about the past throughout the morning. She wanted to see them. Check in on them like she used to do, just to be sure everything was okay. They'd not be able to detect the hack, considering it was _her_ hacking it. She wrote all the code in every system there.

Her fingers flew over the keys fluidly as she input the commands and wrote the code to infiltrate the systems. It was definitely not easy to be doing it from scratch, and even less so to be counteracting her own anti-hack measures to do it. She'd lost herself to it for hours now, only vaguely nodding when one of the lab assistants told her that T'Challa was ready for her. She was too close to stop working on it now. If she did, the system would have enough time to learn and get around it. She'd not get a second chance to get in.

Just as the assistant began to pester her _again_ the screen flashed green, followed by a large _A_ logo as the systems started pulling up in short order for her. She grinned at that, locked the screen, and finally acknowledged the poor girl and left the room.

Toni was led to T'Challa in what was a much smaller dining area than she'd expected. He looked the perfect image of a patient man, but she could see the fidget lying just beneath the surface. "What's up, pussycat?" she asked with a grin, taking her seat across from him and selecting her choice of food from the offerings laid out on the table. When he continued being silent as she nibbled a roll she took a closer stock of him, her eyes narrowed in thought. He was being much quieter than he had been a few hours ago. "Cat got your tongue?" she wheedled at him, hoping to prompt an actual response this time.

"Why should I keep your life a secret, Stark?" he finally asked her, and she had the tact to sit the bread she'd been eating down and straighten in her chair. It was a very important question. "The world has suffered in your absence. Despite whatever it is you have done to yourself," he looked at her more pointedly then, "You are needed. Now more than ever. So tell me, Stark, why should I keep you from them?"

Her posture straightened as he spoke, the muscles of her back tightening as she felt the all too familiar armor slip into place. The armor she'd had since she was old enough to understand that hiding your emotions, your true thoughts, was a skill. The armor that had kept her safe from the press, the drama loving media, and from terrorists all alike. Her mask of indifference, her business face. "Perhaps," she drawled out, her gaze narrowed from the rest of the world to focus just on T'Challa. He was struggling with whatever it was, but he was young. He'd have to come to terms with the fact that some people in the world simply doesn't care that he's a king. She was one of them. She took an empire of her own to soaring new heights. She was basically a king herself. "You should tell me what it is that's scaring you, and then I'll consider answering your question."

" _You_ are scaring me," he answered easily, leaning forward on the table, his own eyes locked with hers. They were two rich, strong, influential people battling for dominance at the table now. "Stark, you'd be blind to not know that you're a risk. You've told me your story about where you've been. I'm inclined to believe you, but the world state is… precarious, at best. If Hydra got their hands on you, if you've been brainwashed or are being controlled, or if you just decide that you're done playing nice with everyone else? You become a risk. You're on the top of the risk list for every organization in the world for a reason. It is my responsibility to assess that risk."

She flashed him a fake smile as he finished, leaning back into her chair instead of pushing forward to challenge him further. She'd been aware of that for years. People constantly whispering around about how lucky they were she was working _with_ them, _for_ them, and not against them. They were right. She'd be a terribly frightening opponent to have. Someone who could hack into any computer system on the planet? Who could build powerful weapons and suits of armor out of her imagination? Who could miniaturize an arc reactor and draw blueprints for bombs in her sleep? They had every right to be fearful of her.

But she still hated that they were. She'd tried for years to make up for what she'd done back when she was building weapons. She tried to repent in every way possible, but then Ultron happened. The world's worst fears came true as a creation out of her own mind was let loose, and very nearly destroyed everything. They were all lucky it was just Sokovia that had fallen. They'd stopped Ultron, but the damage to her reputation had already been done. It cemented all thoughts of just how dangerous she could be.

"You have the right to be afraid," Toni conceded after her brief deliberation, "But I'm not a risk. Would a risk let you keep the Avengers here, safe, while the rest of the world called for their heads? Would a risk work night and day trying to fix the Accords? Finding evidence to arrest Ross? Spend millions in goodwill projects? Would a risk fight beside you against threats that could kill us both? Would a risk come to you for help if I meant to do the world harm? Why would I inject myself with a dangerous compound with a relatively larger chance at my own survival if all I wanted was to destroy the world? Don't get me wrong, T'Challa. I've been fucked with enough times that I would be lying if I said I hadn't considered it a few times. If I hadn't sat awake at night with the somber understanding that I could destroy so much if I wanted to. But I never did. Because I'm not that kind of person. If you don't want to host me that's fine, but I need you to understand that I would never do anything like what you're insinuating."

They sat in silence after her words. She'd been blindsided by the conversation, but she was quick on her feet. She's a genius, after all. If T'Challa wanted to doubt her loyalties and her story then so be it, but she'd be damned if she didn't give him a good argument against it. Would the others be like this? Doubting her just because she was alive, a little changed, and showing up after being gone for so long? Maybe? Viz would be able to see it was her though. She would even let Wanda in her head to prove it. Or maybe it would be better she stayed away from them all. If T'Challa was suddenly acting like this then it would be only natural to assume the others would. Especially since none of them were exactly on friendly terms.

She and T'Challa had a good camaraderie going on before she disappeared from the world. They'd spent a lot of time together, and he was about as close to a friend as she'd let herself admit. Wanda was difficult. She still blamed Toni for the death of her family, for having them locked up, for trying to keep her in the compound, but they'd found some sort of middle ground at least. That was actually thanks to Peter. The kid had become fast friends with Wanda, and the mutual need to take care of him had given her and Toni a path to reconciliation. Peter was definitely on her side, a friend, maybe the son she never knew she wanted. Romanov was fine with her, or as fine as Toni could possibly tell (which was difficullt because _hello_ super spy). She and Viz were on good terms, but it still hurt like a bitch sometimes to remember that JARVIS had died during his creation. Thor and Bruce were still missing as far as she knew, but they were good friends. They'd never been bothered by the things Toni had done in the past, or her mistakes in the present. She barely knew Wilson or Lang, but they had a pleasant enough relationship with her now. It was just an easy, basic sort of knowing each other like what Toni had with most secretaries back at SI. She and Barnes had found their middle ground relatively easily after installing his new arm, but it was strained and not at all friendship. And Rogers… They got along well enough, all things considered, but she didn't trust him. He didn't trust her. They just coexisted, working together because it was the only thing they knew, and the others needed them to at least look like a united front. If they didn't the team would fall into halves again. She was just glad she had Rhodey still most days. And Pepper, even if they were so sure they couldn't make their relationship work out their friendship still remained. Happy, too.

But none of that spelled out an easy way for her to just slide back into their lives after being gone so long. Maybe if she hadn't made those calls on that awful day so long ago. She'd been so low, sicker even than she'd been when the arc reactor was poisoning her, desperate and alone. It was a bad time for her, and she'd succumbed to her emotions fairly easily once her walls broke down in the pain. She was sure she was a dead woman when she did it. Extremis didn't exactly have results that she was confident in, and she was going to die within the month without it. So she made the calls. She talked to Peter about his day at school. About the patrol he'd gone on the night before. The upcoming school dance. She'd asked Rhodey how his new legs were treating him, laughed about things that happened years ago when they were both so young and full of life still. She'd tried desperately not to break down and beg Pepper to take her back, to explain how she'd been the best thing in her life for so long and she regretted everything she ever did to push her away, and just listened to her complain about handling all the board meetings that day without Toni there again. By the time she'd gotten to Steve it was no wonder she'd broken down so thoroughly and just told him what was happening. He was the strength where she was the brains; the ever steady, unbreakable foundation that anchored her in ways she never got to fully explore. He was the calm to her erratic mind, and in battle it was always the two of them working together so well because of their differences that saw them through to the other side. He was, despite everything that happened between them, her _friend_ more than just her co-leader. A friend she'd cried on in the past, just as he had cried on her. There were many after-battle nights they'd spent holed up in her lab, on the roof, in a boardroom, just anywhere away from the others to lick their wounds together and reflect on it all. They carried the burden of caring too damn much about everything, of being in charge, and their friendship found strong foundation in that. What had began was a painful, barbing relationship had grown into the kind of friendship Toni had only ever dreamed about.

So she did tell Steve she was dying. She explained her illnesses. It was selfish of her, but she needed him to know. He'd be able to tell the others, to handle the fallout for her because she didn't think she'd be there to do it herself. And hearing his voice had helped cement her decision to at least try to use Extremis. Steve had sounded almost as broken as her body was by the time they got off the phone. That stupid, old, plastic burner phone that she knew he was carrying around on him still. Because she carried it around too. They were both dumb like that.

Her musing came to a quick stop as a StarkPad was slid into her view across the table, her eyes drawn to it and the data on the screen. She leaned forward and her brows furrowed as she dragged it the rest of the way, sliding away the first screen to the next and the next and the next and the next…

This was Bad.

This was very, very Bad.

Capital B territory.

Bad.

Toni swallowed thickly as she finally raised her gaze to meet T'Challa's eyes, finding within them the same thinly veiled dread and panic that she felt bubbling in her chest. She tried to speak once but found her words failing, opting instead to clear her throat, licking her lips as she sat the tablet down. When her words finally came, they were not what she wanted to say. She wanted to scream. She wanted to shout her fear, her fury, her panic. She wanted the world to hear her as she yelled the questions lingering in her mind, the doubts, the equations already creeping in, the plans forming, the contingencies trying to form. But all she could find it in her to ask out loud, her tone so quiet, so small, but so powerful was:

"How long do we have?"


	6. Chapter 6

_AN: Hey all. I sort of lost my steam for this story somewhere along the way, and when I went back to review it I only had just a tiny piece more than what was already written, so I figured I'd put it up as well before I take a huge step back from this project to truly reevaluate it. Sorry for anyone who was digging it, but for now I'm putting on the brakes on this story._

* * *

Toni swallowed thickly as she finally raised her gaze to meet T'Challa's eyes, finding within them the same thinly veiled dread and panic that she felt bubbling in her chest. She tried to speak once but found her words failing, opting instead to clear her throat, licking her lips as she sat the tablet down. When her words finally came, they were not what she wanted to say. She wanted to scream. She wanted to shout her fear, her fury, her panic. She wanted the world to hear her as she yelled the questions lingering in her mind, the doubts, the equations already creeping in, the plans forming, the contingencies trying to form. She wanted to scream herself hoarse because she had _told_ them this was going to happen and nobody had believed her. But all she could find it in herself to ask out loud, her tone was so quiet, so small, but so powerful. Gone were the days where her responses would be laced with derision, with deflection and snark. She no longer felt like she had the time to keep up the charade of Toni Stark, eccentric billionaire. War was coming, and Earth was nowhere near ready despite her best efforts. Seven billion people no longer need Toni Stark. They need Iron Man; they need Dr. Stark. They need to be protected.

"How long do we have?"

The tablet had been the peace offering; it was the sign that whatever doubt T'Challa had was gone now, and the conversation was fully left in the past. Toni liked it that way. She never liked dwelling on the overly emotional things. The conversations that never fail to leave a bitter taste in her mouth. Giving her the tablet had been the last string of tension snapping away, replaced with only the trust and worry that came with the nature of the information on it. T'Challa understood what it was like to have responsibility for others. The two of them had been doing their level best at pretending to be Atlas for years.

They were coming. The Chitauri. Something else. Something bigger. It was all coming right at them, from so many directions. The deep space scans she'd flipped through all confirmed the same thing. It was literally her worst nightmare bundled up into one place with a ribbon tied around it and handed off to her. It was the thing she'd had so many panic attacks over. The place her mind always went to if she let it wander too far. The darkness. The lack of air constricting her lungs, the sudden loss of gravity. The sheer amount of enemies that had laid just beyond that portal above her tower.

She let out a stunted, shuddering breath as she came back to the present, letting her eyes roam over the room briefly. She took in the chairs, the windows, the warm colors, the Dora standing in the corners. She took time to catalogue the smells of the room, from the vaguely fruity, earthy scent that permeated the palace to the more recognizable smell of coffee percolating somewhere nearby. She carefully ran her fingertips over the tablet in her hands to feel the cool glass and metal. Everything she could possibly see and identify she did, because she needed to ground herself. This was real. She wasn't in space watching a nuke blow up a ship bigger than anything she'd ever seen. Apparently she took to those tricks her therapist had prattled on about better than she realized.

Finally, after a moment had come and went, she returned her eyes to T'Challa. He had been waiting patiently, watching her with eyes much too kind for a man who so clearly was out of his league with this. For a young man who had a kingdom thrust upon him after the death of his father he was doing quite well, and despite the fact that she knew he still didn't trust her no matter what he said she found herself needing to help him. The entire world was bearing down on the young king's shoulders, and he wouldn't be able to handle that no matter how strong he was. She'd worn that weight for years, although she'd hoped to be rid of it permanently now. After all, Toni Stark was dead, right? The world had said so.

But she was just selfish to ever think she'd get to live her days out peacefully.

"My sister, Shuri, she has been working on that," T'Challa spoke as he Toni's focus came back to him. "She has requested assistance in deciphering the little information we have."

"Wakanda doesn't have any long range, deep space satellites, right?" Toni questioned, and at his nod she continued. "So you guys are hacking into someone's to get this." That was less a question, but he nodded along anyway. "And it's not mine, cuz I'd know. So what we need is to get a line set up to connect in with my deep scan sats. We'll get a better picture off those, and my AI can run the numbers for us to figure out how long we have. I can hook your techies up with the permissions if you want?"

It was sort of a non-answer to the unspoken question she could feel radiating off of T'Challa. He wanted to know what they were going to do, but honestly? She had no idea. She'd planned out multiple contingencies for something like this, but when it came right down to it she wasn't sure they'd hold out.

Mostly because no one had ever believed her. Just blamed her PTSD for her fixation on this shit.

"You don't need me to decipher what you already know, T'Challa," Toni finally spoke, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs. The time for vulnerability had past, and now she needed to get back on her game.


End file.
